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Monday, December 24, 2012

The anniversary of the birth of my sweetheart - a review.

Yesterday was Jimi's birthday. I wanted to write something to record how special and important he is to me, but I never made it here to do so. A day late, as usual.

I bought him a juicer for his birthday. I wasn't sure what to get him - he really wanted a shotgun, but who's got an extra $700 sitting around for firearm purchases this holiday season? Not this pregnant girl. If I had that sort of cash to spend, I would've bought a recliner and claimed it was for him while secretly plotting to use it each and every day of my maternity leave. Instead, I scoured his Amazon Wish List and kept coming back to the juicer he picked out months ago. Lately, whenever we're browsing in Target or Walmart, he beelines to the housewares section and checks out their juicing offerings, specifically, the Ninja. The Ninja is not what was in his Wish List, though, so I hope he wasn't secretly pining for one of those. I don't remember the name of the one he ended up with, and it's in the kitchen and I'm too lazy to get up to go look, but if it turns out to be super awesome, I may come back and talk about it more later. In anticipation of a night of juicing excitement, I went to the Kroger today and stocked up on produce: kale, spinach, carrots, oranges, apples, bananas, strawberries, blueberries, peaches. JUICE FOR DAYS!!! And once all of this produce is gone, I've got five bucks that says we never use the damned thing again, but I could be wrong. This one makes pasta and nut butters and baby food too, so we'll see. It could have a longer usable life than I anticipate.

We had breakfast at the Cracker Barrel (his choice) and sat at a two-top table in front of the fireplace, enjoying the warmth while we played checkers and sipped our coffee, waiting for our meal. He was really happy about the fire, and the checkerboard table; his bright eyes and sweet smile warmed my heart more than the crackling logs. After breakfast, he worked on cleaning out his garage to make room for the dresser we're refinishing and turning into a changing table/dresser combo. (See how thrifty we are? Saving money left and right, yo!) While he worked, I baked him a from-scratch devil's food cake. I used a can of cherry pie filling between the layers, and we frosted it last night with homemade cherry icing - I'll let you know tomorrow how it tastes; somehow we managed to have a cake in the house and not get around to eating any of it. I'm just as shocked as you.

His brother stopped by with Christmas gifts for us both, and Momma brought him a card. Mom was just getting up to leave when Daddy walked in, so she sat back down and we all visited for a while. Unfortunately, our topic of conversation was awful and heartbreaking (but this is not the post where I can talk about that in detail). After they left, I tried to maintain the happy-go-lucky mood I'd been in all day, but the sadness was overwhelming, and eventually Jimi said, "Honey, maybe you should just go ahead and cry and let it out," so I did. I curled up with Finn on the bed and bawled, and Jimi came in and held me, and after a few minutes, I felt better. I hated to be so down on his day, but I guess sometimes life just works out that way.

We finished our night with pizza and a zombie movie, in true Nat/Jimi fashion. I think it was a good day, though I wish I would have done more to make his day extra special. Of course, he says I did more than enough, but he always says that. I just want to show him how much he means to me, how much I adore and appreciate him, and I feel like I always fall short of the standard I set in my head for doing that.

He says I talk him up too much, that I put him on a pedastal and hold him to a standard much higher than that to which I hold others. He feels like I brag about him here and when in conversation with others. He says he's not that good, not that special, that he's just a man. He is just a man. But he's the man who changed my world; who makes my life complete and full. He is the man who returns every bit of the love I give to him, without question and without condition. He comforts me and supports me and encourages me in all things, in all ways. He makes me feel safe and protected; I no longer fear the judgment of others, because they don't matter - Jimi loves me, all of me, and that's all that matters. He's shown me how to be compassionate when I want to be scornful. He's shown me how to forgive when I want to hold a grudge. He's just a man, but he's the man who helps to make me a better woman. And, of course, he's made me a mother. I didn't think my love for him could grow any more, but these last few months have made my heart grow way more than the Grinch's heart grew on Christmas morning.